Mirror
by Erikthephantom07
Summary: Flynn calculates the difference between Sam and Clu.  Moments versus years.  There really is no comparison.           I rated it M because of 1 instance of language. I love the MPAA, after all .


Mirror.

Clu was anything but. They looked the same, they shared the same goals, but they were hardly the same.

Clu was a child. An innocent, naive, loving child. He never acted out (unlike Sam), never talked back (definitely unlike Sam), and always obeyed (absolutely unlike Sam). Hell, Clu was less of a child and more of a dog, really. A dog that looked and talked exactly like him.

Flynn thought that was pretty fucking cool.

He was the motivation to Flynn's ingenuity, the arm to Flynn's brain.

"Break into this wall, Clu, let's see what's behind it."

"Of course."

And it was done. Everything was done to perfection. Just like he'd designed him.

Flynn was reckless imagination. Clu was flawless detail. Two peas in a pod.

Sam, on the other hand, brains, brawn, and mischief all rolled into one. It was fun for Flynn, a new challenge. But the minutes he spent with Sam seemed so different to the years he spent with Clu.

Clu had been intrigued by Sam. Intrigued and confused, really.

"Is he like me?" he asked, all interest and attentiveness.

Flynn laughed shortly and shook his head. "He's nothing like you. He talks a lot, acts out a lot. It's a nightmare really. There's no control."

Clu didn't look impressed. "You should delete him," he offered helpfully. "Such imperfection has no place on the Grid."

Looking back, Flynn probably should have been concerned. But this was before the ISOs. This was just he and Tron, gallivanting across the Grid, making it wonderful, with Clu always at his beck and call. He was disgusted to remember that he'd laughed at the comment, patting his clone on the shoulder.

"It doesn't work that way out there," he'd chuckled, gesturing widely at the portal. Clu wasn't convinced. "You can't just delete imperfections. Imperfections are a way of life out there." Flynn looked around into the almost silent landscape, the artificial wind blowing their identical hair.

"That isn't very sound programming," Clu mused.

Flynn laughed out loud. "No it isn't. That's why we have here, Clu. The Grid. When this is perfect, we'll take it out there, and we'll fix my world."

"Even your son?"

Flynn shrugged. "He doesn't need fixing. Kids do that. Hell, his mother just died. I'm not blaming him."

Clu gave him a moment. He knew his nuances, his moods, though he didn't fully understand him. Flynn chuckled softly to himself. Emotion. He'd have to work on that with his programs. Their emotions were never varied or subtle. Anger, yes. Disappointment, absolutely. But there was a limit. A limit that, as they spent more and more years together, started to irritate Flynn. Clu seemed to feel a fair amount, but there was the point where he remained a program and not human. The full understanding of things, the changing nature of man, that was way beyond Clu.

"I didn't need a mother," Clu stated, sounding oddly superior.

"No," Flynn allowed with a grin, "No you didn't, but that's the difference between programs and children."

"A mother?"

"Something like that."

"Which is better?"

"Better?"

"Yes. A child or a program?"

It was a trick question. Flynn had to be impressed. Clu, the apparently "soulless" program, was asking him a trick question. Who was better: Sam or Clu? Son of a bitch.

"You're both different," he answered diplomatically. "You're invaluable to me, Clu. We operate on the same wavelength. But Sam…" Flynn smiled fondly. "Sam's just a kid. In a weird way I've known him less than I know you." They were both his flesh and blood, Clu genetically (if you could even call it that) identical. Clu's eyes lit up possessively at that statement. Flynn chose to ignore it (fool). "But he's mine. My responsibility. I get to shape him into the man he'll become. It's different than with you. You are me, in a way. It's too different to compare."

Clu wasn't convinced, but he accepted his master/father/god's wisdom with a sage nod. "I look forward to meeting him. If he's anything like you, he'll be a wonder to behold and an incredible resource to your shaping world."

"_Our_ shaping world, Clu," Flynn offered, feeling like he needed to give the program something. God, when had he become a father to two instead of one?

"Yes," Clu nodded slowly. "Our world. Yours and mine."

"And Tron's," Flynn added quickly. "Don't tell him we forgot about him."

Clu smiled in that odd, digital way of his. "Of course not."

Flynn regarded him for a moment. "I'll bring him," he nodded, making up his mind. "I'll bring him here." Clu looked aghast at him. "No, I want you to meet him. You're important to me, Clu. Honestly. And so is he. I want you two to meet each other."

Clu responded with a purposefully emotionless nod. "That would be nice," he offered carefully.

"Yeah. It would be, wouldn't it? The whole family together." Clu visibly brightened at the word 'family.' And why shouldn't he? He was more of Flynn than even Sam was. "A couple of days my time, how about that?"

Clu shrugged. "You're always gone for so many cycles. And I know that's only one day to your time. How many cycles is that until Sam?"

"A lot," Flynn admitted. "But we'll make it perfect before he comes, how about that? Perfect for my son."

"Yes," Clu said slowly. "It will be perfect for your son."

Was Clu his son? Or his creation? Or was it both the same thing? Flynn didn't want to admit it, but it was different. Creation versus son. One a genetic mashup of he and a woman he'd really liked, even loved. Another a perfect algorithm duplication of him. The moments with Sam versus the years with Clu: there was no comparison, really. A mirror could only show so much, and never what you were looking for.

But Clu didn't need to know that.

_?_?_

Author's Note: This movie just will not leave my brain. I only saw it once, just like Inception, but it's stuck firmly in there. I'm even drawing a bleeding picture of it (and that's never a good idea). Let's face it, this movie was quietly brilliant, and I really hope to see more fanfic of it because it does truly lend itself to more. In the mean time, I'll keep writing it until it fades (or until the Miller's Best Ice runs out and Daft Punk stops being so awesome). Again, sorry to subject you to my semi-drunken ramblings…And speaking of semi-drunken ramblings, look up the new Doctor Who cast singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas on YouTube. Instant classic.


End file.
